


He Loved Her First

by WhyArentIBlessd



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, F/M, Light Angst, Marriage, Other, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyArentIBlessd/pseuds/WhyArentIBlessd
Summary: "You had better get this through that stingy head of yours. Elizavetha is the best damn thing that happened to me, so she is the greatest damn thing you will ever get." Prussia's voice was low with anger, low enough to remain private, and Austria stared. "'m…" Prussia blinked wetly, "I'm not marriage material, so you're all she's got…" "Prussia…" Austria murmured, "Shut up!"





	He Loved Her First

Prussia watched as Austria and Hungary twirled around gracefully, smiling at each other and dazzling the crowd around the dance floor. They were oblivious to the stares of the other nations caught up in the steady waltz and their closeness. Their cozy attitudes made Prussia feel as if they were the only two people in their world, and he hated it.

' _I was enough for her not long ago…_ ' Prussia thought bitterly, seeing Hungary tuck herself against the classically-dressed nation, smiling. He scowled: _'Suck balls. She smiled at me first, you stingy bastard!_ '  
Prussia remembered that day in the forest, when he had seen her again after all those years by himself.  
 _'"Ah, I could really use some treatment…"'_ She was so small now that he had grown up, and Prussia felt his heart go out to her. She was bloody, bruised, and yet she was still poking fun at him through the pain.  
' _She really has grown into a beautiful woman since then._ ' Prussia admitted to himself, nursing his beer slowly. ' _She's not a she-man riding about bare-back… all flat chests and freckles…_ '  
Riding brought up memories of their hunts as children, his campfire stories that had always sent her to sleep, and Prussia's lips quivered against his glass. ' _We never went hunting again…_ ' Prussia quickly tossed his head back, downing the liquor like a true German would. Unfortunately, the lump in his throat caught on the last swallow.

Coughing, Prussia set his glass on the next flat surface he found and took that opportunity to stagger away from the dance floor, coughing. He made it to a balcony not filled with the other nations and leaned heavily on the rail, tears obscuring the flowers below. ' _We'll never go hunting again!_ ' Prussia didn't like the ache it brought to him; those five words were like a nail bomb in his heart. ' _Never! It's all because of that stupid Austria!_ '

'" _What's with the girly get-up?!"' Prussia demanded, '"Take it off and let's go hunting!"' Prussia had seen Hungary from behind, but she hardly looked like herself now that she was staying with Austria. She turned calmly, smiling, and Prussia grinned: '"Hunting-"'_

'" _Unfortunately,"' Hungary said, sending his hopes crashing down. '"I have no interest in hunting."'_

"Stupid Austria…" Prussia growled, pushing off the rail and moving back through the dancers. It was a group dance –perfect!- and Prussia wasted no time. He grabbed Austria by the frilly cloth of his collar and dragged him close.

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" Austria yelped, his nasally voice cracking with stress. "Prussia!?"

"Listen, Roderich," growled the silver-haired man, feeling very much like the Teutonic Knight he had been in his youth. "You had better get this through that stingy head of yours. Elizavetha is the best damn thing that happened to me, so she is the greatest damn thing you will ever get." Prussia's voice was low with anger, low enough to remain private, and Austria stared. "'m…" Prussia blinked wetly, "I'm not marriage material, so you're all she's got…"

"Prussia…" Austria murmured,

"Shut up!" Prussia rasped quietly, hearing Hungary approaching. "I'm not done! You may have her, but… but- ugh, just take care of her, okay? She's an awesome girl!"

"Yes," Austria whispered, seeing Prussia's teary eyes. "Of course."

"Then don't you repeat this…" Prussia threatened, "or Silesia is mine!"

"GILBERT!" Spinning with a little bit of joy, Prussia saw Hungary break through the crowd, frying pan in hand. His heart leapt, flattered that she's gotten to upset enough to yell his name in her wedding dress, and Prussia steadied his body.

"You should run." Austria breathed behind him.

"Yeah," Prussia hissed as she wound up. "I should."

"Will you?" Austria asked, and Prussia closed his wine-red eyes softly.

"No," He whispered, voice raw with unshown emotion. "I won't."

The Prussian man turned his head to the side, exposing his cheek for the blow, and tensed in anticipation. After a few minutes, no blow came. Prussia waited and waited, but it was Hungary's hand that touched his cheek. She wiped at tears he hadn't realized he'd cried and, opening his demonically-red eyes, he saw her concern.

"I haven't even hit you yet, and you're crying…" Prussia fought back another wave of tears and grinned at her as best he could.

"I was expecting a dance with Herr Frying pan for a minute there…" he chuckled, not feeling ready to laugh. "Might as well get going before you decide to hit me."

"Gilbert-"

" _Guten nacht_!" Prussia quickly left, not wanting Hungary's voice to punch the fatal hole in his mask of calm. He wiped at his eyes discreetly as he descended the front steps, making his way back to his car, until he heard Hungary calling.

"Come back, you idiot!" When she appeared at his side, her dress hitched up around her knees, Prussia was shocked. She panted, dropping her skirts, and smiled, "For the love of Ferdinand, Gilbert! You're as impulsive as always! I could barely tell you who we were fighting before you were off without a care to my battle plans! Slow down and listen to me for once!"

"Ja?" Prussia played it cool. "What is it?"

"This." Hungary produced a bundle of cloth and handed it to Prussia. "It's for you."

"Shouldn't _I_ be giving _you_ something?" Prussia smirked, unwinding it with a knot in his throat.

"You did. I'm just replacing it." Prussia understood when he unfurled the dark blue cloak, seeing the obvious effort and how well it would fit him on the long walks he made.

"E- Elizavetha…" Prussia stammered. "Wh- it's awesome." He turned it over, seeing the reverse stitches on the inside, and his heart hammered as he saw a mural of the places he'd conquered or invaded embroidered in a map across it.

"Good," Hungary nodded, "if you like this one, I can keep the other one."

"Other one?" Prussia frowned, confused, and Hungary nodded.

"The white one," she explained, "from when you were a knight." Prussia considered scoffing at the fact that Hungary had kept his ratty old cape, and then he reconsidered.

"Ja, go ahead." He said, throwing the cape over his shoulders; it fit well and he liked the cross-shaped clasp that rested at his neck. "I'll use this instead."

Turning to go, Prussia let his shoulders hunch and wrapped the cloak around his body a little.

"GILBERT!"

Prussia turned: "Yeah?" Hungary was at the foot of the stairs now, backlit by her wedding reception that pouring light out of Austria's house windows.

"Take care of yourself… okay?" Prussia turned his back on the busty woman and hid his smile in the darkness before him.

"Okay." As he walked away, he couldn't help the smile that clung to his lips at her concern, and he bowed his head. ' _But I'll take care of you first. Always._ '


End file.
